a sky of diamonds just for us
by murakamism
Summary: Natalia doesn't remember saying yes, but she remembers looking at him and finding a blaze. ( Alternatively: It's not a crush, because she isn't fragile enough to be tempted by a candlelight's flicker. )


**tbh idek it felt really cute in my head but, ah, here we have natalia being a bit girly and warm inside. crushing on our dear norge. don't worry, most of it is internal. on the outside, i still tried to keep her aloof. not entirely ooc eh?**

**not necessarily a human au, but it can be set in any universe! enjoy.**

**(crossposted to ao3)**

**NOTE: yes, there was supposed to be a line break at that last scene. thank you to kyh for pointing that out! (i really prefer ao3's freeform para breaks, i sweaar)**

* * *

a sky of diamonds just for us.

x

Ice is cold and sharp but those things are things that she's known all her life, so Natalia appreciates it. It emphasizes the warmth of her brother's old scarf or her sister's smile, consuming her whole face and almost hiding the wrinkles underneath her tired eyes. (Almost.)

And they say opposites attract but Natalia hates the idea of melting so mindlessly into someone's arms, her lips puckered up like some sad noontime drama heroine. She doesn't want the chocolates melting on her tongue or the bouquet of flowers on her desk; she just wants the shine of a smile or the language of fingertips brushed against her own.

She is sixteen when she realizes this, and realizes it forever. She keeps her words close to her heart but dips them in poison sharp enough to cut throats. It's her defence mechanism.

Just forgive her. And if someone can, then she'll try to love them.

* * *

He is quiet but powerful and beautiful but not kind, and so similar to her yet so different. Natalia whispers his name once in the hallway, cherishing the way her lips and tongue move to breathe out his image. He turns his head and looks at her, meeting her gaze, and she senses the kindle of a flame behind those icy violet eyes.

But her eyes are violet too, and she blinks, and the fire is gone, cooled out into bare ashes dancing in the dank wind. Lukas stares at her unblinkingly, but he's listening, and she tells him what she has to.

Business is business and they depart from the hallway with a nod. Natalia's lips quirk at the end—a clumsy mistake—but Lukas allows himself not to notice it.

( It's not a crush, because Natalia isn't fragile enough to be tempted by a candlelight's flicker. )

* * *

She occasionally wonders what it would be like to touch him or grab his sleeve, but she doesn't allow herself to dwell on thinking about her thoughts. That she's acting like a little schoolgirl when she is Natalia Arlovskaya. It should bring her displeasure, but instead her heart beats inside of her chest, and she can hear his name echoing throughout her veins.

Lukas. Lukas. Lukas.

Her name would fit with his, she thinks. It's irrelevant, but everything that can connect her to him makes her happy, even just a tiny bit. She drums her fingers against her lap and then clutches her skirt, waiting for her knuckles to turn white. Not white like his hair or hers, but white enough to remind her to stop.

And she thinks that she's stopped breathing when she looks up to find him in the same room. He looks around with disinterest, his brothers ahead of him laughing loudly. His gaze engulfs the whole room, and Natalia feels her jaw clench.

His eyes meet hers. She stares back without pretense. She survives the ordeal, her throat dry and flaky but her eyes made of steel. She is iron; she is ice.

Lukas tilts his head, but then his brothers leave and so he is gone.

She remembers to relax her grip.

* * *

She's brushing snow from her skirts when he arrives behind her. She jerks her head towards him, surprised that she hadn't noticed him coming, but that doesn't matter, not really. She thinks that her heart is beating hard enough to deter the snowflakes from drifting and settling onto her skin, but that's just an exaggeration.

The white melts on her pale arms, but there's a difference. They stare at each other, Natalia's lips quirking up into a perfectly voiced question.

"Yes?"

His hands are shoved into his pockets as Lukas descends the steps to stand beside her. He breathes noiselessly, mouth opening just wide enough for a breath of snowy air. His heels dig into the ground, marking the white with dirt.

"Don't mind me."

She raises her brow but keeps silent. They turn away from each other and into the horizon, waiting for something that will never come. White meets white meets blue and an endless brightness.

Natalia thinks that she'll be going blind soon, but if it's to the sight of snow then she doesn't mind. Her gloves disappear into the folds of her dress.

"Would you want to join me for something warmer inside?"

Natalia doesn't remember saying yes, but she remembers looking at him and finding a blaze.

* * *

One day he kisses her, and it's like any other day except that his lips are warmer than the air, and that's all it is.

She kisses back but doesn't melt into his grip, although he sneaks an arm around her waist and breathes into her hair afterwards. She whispers a secret into his neck, in words ancient but not forgotten, in a low and short-lived murmur.

He replies by pulling her closer towards him, as if they can somehow merge into one for all of frozen eternity, and she lets him.

They don't hold hands out in public or practice stolen heated kisses (everything must be planned and careful and worthwhile, because there's nothing to gain in sloppy closet quickies) but they can exhale and everything will be _warm_.

And she thinks: opposite don't attract; they simply complement.

(And ice will be ice, but they are people—exceptions to the cliche.)


End file.
